


Sometimes

by simonsaidfred



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-22
Packaged: 2018-10-29 02:47:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10844892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simonsaidfred/pseuds/simonsaidfred
Summary: Snake and Otacon's little love song.A journey thru nine years of partnership.M/M, Otasune, occasionally explicit.Updated at random intervals.





	1. pressure fried the coldest head

"I believe in you." 

"Thanks, Snake." 

The line went dead. Hal Emmerich flopped back in his chair, exhaling sharply. 

_Well, this is it, Hal._

He had already released the remaining security locks. All that's left is the waiting. Watching.

Waiting for the bombs to drop. 

Watching as Snake escaped with Meryl. 

Meryl, who Snake saved by enduring Ocelot's merciless torture. 

_I couldn't save you, Wolf..._

_I'm sorry._

_All I can do is watch._

Meryl drove them to safety, Liquid hot on their trail. Hal watched their chase on the security cameras. Their respective jeeps exploded out of the building, crashing into a snowbank. Liquid descended upon them, machine gun in hand. 

Hal screamed at the screen. "SNAKE!" 

Liquid took aim at Snake, and then fell to his knees. 

"What the hell...?" Hal gripped the sides of the closed circuit TV. 

Snake crawled out from under the Jeep, helping Meryl out of the wreck as well. Liquid lay dead where he fell. 

Hal watched as Snake and Meryl limped to a nearby snowmobile. He watched them talk for a while. There was no audio; all he could do is watch. 

He watched as Snake and Meryl rode off into the sunrise, fading to a dot on the horizon. 

All he could do is watch. 

_I hope Snake and Meryl are able to... find the happiness I could not find with Wolf._

_Wolf..._

Hal leaned back in his chair, fingers laced behind his head, feet resting on the desk. There was nothing left to do.

_Bombers should be here any minute._

_At least I got to be a hero for once._

_He said, "I believe in you."_

_"I believe in you."_

Hal's eyes slid closed, darkness overtaking him. 

-

"Are you alive?"

Hal jerked awake to find a gun pointed at his head. He yelped, sitting upright. 

"You're one of the only survivors. What is your name?" 

Hal stammered, "H-Hal Emmerich. I was the lead scientist on REX." He showed his ID badge, adjusting his glasses nervously. 

"Come with us." The man holding a gun was a soldier from the Army. Hal guessed they came to Shadow Moses to assess the damage, arrest the terrorists, and... 

And? 

What would they do to Hal? Did they think he was a terrorist? 

Hal followed the soldier to his commanding officer. "This guy is a scientist." Hal nodded, his eyes focused on the floor. 

He was absolutely scared shitless. Still, he asked: "What happened to the bombers?"

"They fucked off," the commanding officer said gruffly. "Alright, Nancy. Time to pack your panties, you're going home." 

"Home?" Hal asked, shocked. Where was home? Shadow Moses had been home for what felt like forever now, and no place he had lived previously was a viable option to return to. "Is it okay if I make a phone call?" 

"Make it snappy. We'll be out of here at 1300 hours." That gave Hal roughly two hours to figure something out. 

"Thank you, sir." 

He stared at his office phone, receiver in hand. The dial tone droned. 

_Good, we still have phone connection._

_Who can I call? Where can I go?_

He briefly considered calling her. 

Julie. 

_No, I can't. I can't face her... face them._

He placed the receiver back on the base of the phone, sighing defeatedly. 

_If the bombs had dropped, I wouldn't have to deal with this bullshit right now._

He pinched the bridge of his nose, picking the receiver back up, dialing a long string of numbers. An automated lady told him he hadn't dialed the correct country code, and he smashed the receiver into the phone over and over. 

"Everything alright?" A soldier popped his head into the doorway. 

"Yeah, sure," Hal replied, defeated. 

He dialed again, correctly this time, from a phone that hadn't been wrecked by his anger. The line rang, twice, three times. The call connected, and an elderly voice spoke in a British accent. 

"Hello?"

"Grandma? It's Hal." 

"Hal! We haven't heard from you in so long." 

"I know. I'm sorry, Grandma. Listen. I was wondering if it would be okay if I... came to visit?"

"Oh, Hal, that would be lovely! When can we expect you?" 

"Shouldn't be long. I'll be in touch. Thanks, grandma." He hung up the receiver. 

Hal packed his personal effects, posters and action figures and secret copies of all of his data, in a cardboard box that smelled like Snake. 

_Snake...._

Hal shook his head. _I must be losing my damn mind._

He still had an hour before 1300, and was unsure how to spend the time. 

_I hope Snake's okay._

_I wonder if he and Meryl are..._

Blood rushed to Hal's face as images of Snake and Meryl making love flooded his mind. 

_Oh my..._

Perspiration beaded Hal's hairline. He probably had time to go... y'know, _take care of business._

__

He looked around. The soldiers were gone. He reached for a Post-It Note, leaving a note on his box: 

"Had to go to restroom. Pls don't leave me! - Hal Emmerich" 

Hal limped to the restroom, which wasn't too far from his office. Closing and locking the door behind him, he leaned against it, exhaling loudly. Intrusive thoughts of Snake and Meryl overwhelmed his consciousness. 

Hal's mind was out of control, and his body was following suit. His erection strained against the fly of his jeans. 

He leaned over the counter, white-knucle gripping the sides of the sink. 

_Snake, shirtless, sweat glistening on the blades of his shoulders; strong, powerful, commanding arms wrapped around Meryl, writhing, her head tilted back in ecstasy..._

Hal gasped, struggling with the buttons on his jeans. 

Button fly. _Never_ again. 

_Meryl bent over, Snake behind her, gripping that perfect ass..._

Hal's jeans and boxers pooled around his ankles, fist pumping his arousal in beat with his ragged breaths. 

_Snake bent over, Meryl behind him, gripping that perfect ass..._

Hal shook his head, confused by that one. Regardless of or arguably exacerbated by these thoughts, fireworks sparked behind his eyelids. He was _so close._.. 

_Snake on his knees in front of me, mouth around my cock, staring into my eyes o _h my **god**__

he came with a whimper, gasping as wave after wave of pleasure washed over him. Panting, his vision returned to normal a moment later. He adjusted his glasses.

He had made quite the mess. 

_I suppose it doesn't matter, as long as I didn't get any on me_... Hal thought guiltily. He pulled his pants back up, wiping his hand, sleeve, and penis with a paper towel. 

He composed himself and exited the bathroom. Voices from his office caused him to hide in fear. 

"Where's that squirrelly guy?" 

"There's a note saying he went to the bathroom." 

"On that box? Did you look in there?"

"No... Did you?"

The sounds of rustling began. 

"Yeah, just some posters and toys."

"What a nerd... Hey, what's this? Did you see this disc?"

"Oh shit. Better not let him take that." 

Hal panicked. _My data._

He jumped up from his hiding spot, walking into the room as nonchalantly as possible. 

"Are you ready to go?" one of the soldiers asked Hal. 

"O-oh, yeah, definitely. ASAP," Hal saluted him weakly. 

"We'll be taking you to Galena Air Force Base. From there, a jet will lift you to the airport of your choosing. Do you have your passport?"

Hal reached for the box, digging around. His disc had been taken by these bastards. He cursed silently, retrieving his passport. He considered briefly asking for Narita Airport in Tokyo where he could go live his best otaku life, but his money situation was poor and he didn't speak Japanese. 

"Heathrow Airport, please." 

The next eighteen hours are a blur. Hal went from Shadow Moses to London, sleeping most of the time. Travelling was a great way to avoid having to think about the first homoerotic fantasy he'd ever had. 

_Snake..._

_He believed in me._

Before Hal knew it, weeks had passed. He didn't have to do much at his grandma's estate. She had a butler and a staff of maids to tend to her sprawling acres, and Hal had an entire wing of her house practically to himself. It took a while, but eventually he had built a computer out of parts found locally. His grandmother was a lovely woman, but tech savvy she was not. Getting an internet connection was a battle. 

Hal hadn't been online since Shadow Moses, and other than what he had seen on the BBC, he had no idea what the world was told about what happened. 

LONE MERCENARY SAVES WORLD FROM NUCLEAR HOLOCAUST. 

TERRORIST PLOT THWARTED BY LONE MAN, FORMER SOLDIER.

SHADOW MOSES ISLAND: WHAT HAPPENED? 

_What happened, indeed._

The web was abuzz with conspiracy theories and facts and smear campaigns and hero worship. Hal checked his personal email for the first time in a month, and found that somehow it had been released to the public. His inbox was positively overflowing. 

One email toward the top of his inbox, dated two days prior, caught his eye. The subject was "OTACON." 

In all of the news articles and leaked information regarding Shadow Moses, one thing remained a secret, however accidentally: Hal's codename. 

Or nickname, rather. 

Otacon. 

Only Snake knew it. 

Hal opened the email. All it contained was a Tor link: 115aul808xxf4dlv.0n10n. Hal launched it, confused by what he was seeing. 

The screen was black, and in the center were four QuickTime video screens stacked two by two, various aerial shots of what looked like a cabin. There was a chain link fence with many dog house igloos, and accompanying them were dozens of huskies. 

The video was dated 17/03/2005. Hal glanced down at the computer clock to check the date. 19/03/2005. Two days ago. 

_What am I looking at?_

A figure carried what appeared to be firewood to the cabin. Smoke billowed from the chimney. The figure opened the door, entering the cabin. They soon exited, sitting outside of the cabin. Hal zoomed the video image in. 

"Snake!" Hal cried aloud. He winced at the sound of his voice echoing down the hallway. 

The computer pinged, alerting Hal to a new email. "RE: OTACON." 

Took you long enough. Snake is in trouble. Two days ago Naomi escaped her prison, and they're pinning it on him. This is proof he had nothing to do with it. His coordinates are 60.6363° N, 153.8694° W.  
\- NR

NR? It didn't ring a bell, but it was apparent that the email wasn't sent by Snake. 

_Snake..._

_I'm glad you're okay._

The video continued playing. Another figure exited the cabin. Snake and the second figure talked, both gesticulating in a way that read as Angry. 

There was no audio. 

All he could do was watch. 

Snake held a bottle. The other person grabbed the bottle from him, waving their arms above their head, their red hair. 

Meryl. 

Snake's head dropped between his knees. Meryl continued flailing. The bottle flew from her grip, flying thru the air and landing in the snow a few feet away. Snake jumped to his feet, grabbing her by the arms to try to calm her. She slapped him across the face, knocking him to the ground. She gesticulated more, pointing at him. She then turned and went into the cabin, slamming the door behind her. 

_That... didn't look okay._

The video feed ended here. 

Hal sat in silence for a moment, confused. Who was NR? 

He plugged the coordinates from the email in. Twin Lakes, Alaska. Roughly thirty miles from Shadow Moses. 

Is that where Snake is? 

He replied to the email. 

I got the package. Who are you, and how do you know Otacon? 

Sent. His eyes lost focus as he thought about Snake. 

_I believe in you._

Minutes passed with no response. Finally came the beep signalling a new message. 

Drop the tough guy act, cutie. Call me. + 7 (222) 015-2667.

Hal hated talking on the phone. With a sigh, he picked up the receiver, dialing the number. The line rang once, twice, three times. 

"Hello, stranger." The voice was female, Russian, and unfamiliar. 

"H-hello. Who... are you?"

The unfamiliar female Russian voice chuckled. "I'm afraid I have you at a disadvantage. My name is Nastasha Romanenko. I supported the man known as Solid Snake during the Shadow Moses incident." 

The name didn't ring a bell. 

"I heard your conversations with Snake, via codec and otherwise. You two are... Sweet." There was a slow inhalation, then an exhalation. "Shadow Moses wasn't the end. The fight is only just beginning, Dr. Emmerich. Will you help?"

Hal stared at his keyboard. He wasn't here. 

"Dr. Emmerich?"

_"Otacon?"_

"Yes," Hal said finally. "I will help in any way I can." 

"Good boy. Do you know how to hack satellite cameras?" 

"I'm sure I can figure it out," Hal replied automatically. 

"I suggest you do. Snakes can be slippery. I'll be in touch." The line clicked, the call disconnected. 

Hours later, Hal had a live feed of Snake's cabin in Twin Lakes. It was the middle of the night there, a blizzard raging. Hal zoomed the camera in as far as it would go, and after some buffering the image was incredibly clear, all things considered...

Still, he couldn't see shit. 

Weeks passed. Hal watched Snake's feed often throughout the day. Presently, Snake was tending to his remaining dogs. Hal wasn't sure what happened to the rest of them. 

Watching Snake take care of his dogs reminded Hal of Sniper Wolf. The wound of her death was still fresh on his heart, and he winced at the pain. He hoped nothing bad had happened to Snake's dogs. 

Meryl came out to where Snake was. They stood apart. She hugged him, and after a moment, he hugged her back, weakly. She pulled away, walking to a car. Hal watched her drive away. Snake never looked up. 

Weeks turned to months. Hal and Nastasha made increasingly less tentative plans. Hal continued watching Snake. Seeing him was comforting. 

One day, Snake exited the cabin, walking diagonally across the snow. He was looking up, wandering around. 

For a second, Hal could have sworn that Snake looked right at him. 

Days later, a Fed Ex package was delivered to Snake's cabin by drone. The beep of a new email chimed. 

(907) 140-8346. Call now.  
\- NR 

Hal gritted his teeth. She knows I hate the goddamn phone. 

He dialed the number, thankful for his grandma's wealth. All these long distance calls... 

The line rang. Twice. Three times. 

Seventeen times. 

Thirty seven times. 

Onscreen, the cabin door opened. Snake stepped into the doorway, bending over to pick up the package. He deftly ripped it open, bringing a cell phone to his ear. 

"Hello." 

The same voice. 

"Snake?"

Snake looked up, meeting Hal's gaze from across the world. 

"Otacon?" 

"That's right. It's me, Snake." 

Silence for a moment, then: 

"I'm glad to finally hear from you. Nastasha sent me a letter saying you were rescued." 

"Yeah, no worries. I'm glad to hear from you too, Snake. Hey, I have a question." 

"Shoot."

"Are... are your dogs okay?" 

Snake chuckled. "Yeah, doing some downsizing. I've rehomed all but six of them." 

"Why?"

"I'm relocating. Someplace a bit more... centrally located. Where are you?"

"England." 

"Oh. Say hi to the Queen for me."

Hal rolled his eyes so hard, Snake heard it all the way in Alaska. 

"Listen, Otacon. I want you to join me." 

Hal's heart skipped a beat. 

"Sure, Snake." 

"David." 

"Huh?"

"My name is David, Otacon." 

"Okay, David," Hal said carefully. "We're on a first date -- I mean, first name basis." He shook his head, embarrassed.

"Nastasha said she'd take care of the arrangements. I'm leaving for the airport now. I'll get settled, and we can meet up once you've finished your tea." 

"Sounds good. We have a lot of... catching up to do." 

"See you soon, Otacon." 

The hand holding the phone dropped to Hal's side. 

Onscreen, moments later, Snake exited the cabin. He had a small duffel bag around his shoulder. He closed the door behind him, looking into Otacon's eyes from across the miles one final time.

Two days later, Hal landed at JFK. New York City. He collected his checked bag from the carousel, struggling with it and his carry-on bag... or, rather, box. He made his way out of the airport, setting his box and bag down on the sidewalk. The crowd was a pulsing, living thing. Hal's anxiety level was at its maximum. Looking to his left, and his right, he saw no sign of Snake. 

He took his new cell phone out of his pocket, flipping it open and staring at the screen. There was an airplane in the upper right corner. 

_I fucking forgot to turn airplane mode off._

He made the change, and a minute later the phone rang. Hal answered it immediately. 

"Kept you waiting, huh?"


	2. bent to the side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brick by brick, nail by nail, Snotacon's gonna build this house of Philanthropy.

“Where are you?”

“I can see you. I’ll be there in a minute. Stay put.” 

Snake appeared as if out of thin air. He wore a form fitting navy blue t shirt, jeans, and heavy black boots. His hair had grown out somewhat, his previously clean shaven face now covered in stubble.

“Need some help?” He bent over to pick up Hal’s box, stopping in shock. “My box!”

“I thought it smelled like you,” Hal replied automatically, not realizing how bizarre that would sound. To Snake, it was normal. 

“I’m glad to see it. And glad to see you,” Snake wrapped Hal in a hug. It seemed… Uncharacteristic. 

“Nastasha found us a place in a quiet part of town. We should be fine there for a while.” He carried Hal's box to his car, a cherry red 1992 Chrysler LeBaron convertible with the top down.

Snake took Hal's bag, tossing it in the trunk next to his box. He wrapped Hal in another hug. 

"Security is tracking us. Stay calm." Snake whispered this into Hal's clavicle, head tilted down, lips fluttering against Hal's t shirt. Blood rushed to Hal's face, a small stream trickling down his upper lip.¹

Snake pulled away, gripping Hal by the shoulders. He licked the pad of his thumb, wiping Hal's blood from his nose. "Ready to go?"

Hal nodded. Snake walked him to the passenger side, opening the door and then closing it after Hal. 

_What a gentleman._

Snake walked around the car slowly, kicking his tires, checking for surveillance cameras and guards. There were dozens of each, and an unsettlingly high number of them were focusing on the two men. He got in the car, buckling his seatbelt, he shifted the LeBaron to Drive. They made it out of the airport without incident. 

"Are you hungry?" Snake stared at the road, left arm propped on the car's door. "We're gonna have at least a few tails to shake before we can go home, so we may as well make it worth our while."

 _Home._ Hal smiled at the word. 

"Sure, I could eat. All I had on the plane was peanuts and rum." 

"What sounds good? New York has literally anything you could want." 

Snake drove Hal around, showing him a few of the more populated attractions. They ate at a twenty four hour diner relatively close to the place Nastasha found for them, and after dining they ditched the car. Snake carried Hal's heavy bag, Hal carried Snake's box full of Hal's things, and together they walked to a warehouse district bereft of people. 

The air was heavy with smog. Hal coughed delicately into his hoodie. 

"It's not so bad once you get inside," Snake said, holding the door to the stairwell open. They went up a few flights, going down a corridor to an elevator. Snake entered a code and the elevator started moving. "I have copies all of the codes and keys for you." 

Hal hugged his box, watching the floor numbers increase. He smiled at Snake nervously. 

The elevator stopped, and Snake pulled the doors apart. Down some twisting, unkempt corridors, they finally stopped at a door labeled 1115. Snake unlocked the door, holding it open for Hal. 

It was... 

A _shithole._

Hal blinked, entering the main room. It was open and empty, a split-level layout. Immediately to the right was a door leading to the bathroom. Thru the main room, to the left, was an open kitchen with an island. A door off of the upper right corner of the main room led to a bathroom, and thru there was a second bathroom. 

There were giant windows along the north wall, many of which were broken. Paper and other debris were blown around the floor in small spirals. 

Snake took Hal's bag to the bedroom, setting it on the floor there. He came back to the entryway where Hal continued to stand, taking the box from him and placing it next to his bag. He came back to the entryway again, where Hal remained. 

"Otacon." 

Hal snapped from his reverie, eyes focusing on Snake. He adjusted his glasses. 

"Snake... We have a lot of work to do." 

"I know. We need this place up and running as soon as possible. Want to get drunk?"

Hal laughed, nodding. The two men walked back to Snake's LeBaron, taking the back roads to a nearby liquor store. Snake got a handle of Jack Daniel's, and after much deliberation, Otacon chose a liter of Delirium Tremens Belgian pale ale. 

"Because the little elephant is cute," Otacon explained, holding the bottle aloft for Snake to see. Snake looked past the bottle at Otacon, sternly. 

Back at the future Philanthropy HQ, Snake and Otacon sat across from one another on the floor. Snake took a slug from the bottle of whiskey, setting it down in front of him. He took a cigarette from his pack, placing it gently between his lips. He then opened his Zippo with a flik, lighting it against the denim of his jeans. He accomplished all of this fluidly, with zero effort, in the span of seconds. 

Otacon nursed his big beer, watching Snake. Otacon hadn't drank in a while; Shadow Moses ran out of alcohol pretty much immediately after the last supplies delivery, before FOXHOUND took over. 

Snake took a long first drag from his cigarette, withdrawing it from his mouth as he exhaled smoke. He took another shot of whiskey, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His eyes met Otacon's, and he wordlessly offered him the bottle. Otacon shook his head no. 

Snake broke the silence. "How's your elephant beer?"

Otacon was mid-draught, drinking the beer in gulps. He removed the bottle from his lips with an "Ahh...," beer running down his chin and neck. "It's heavenly." 

"Good," Snake replied, taking another drag from his cigarette. He exhaled. "How have you been? Since Shadow Moses?" 

"Oh... lonely," Otacon held the bottle of Delirium Tremens in front of him, elbows resting on his knees. "My grandma has a huge manor in England. I hardly saw her during my time there. She was so upset that I was leaving so soon." His gaze was distant. After a moment, he snapped back to reality. "How about you, Snake?"

"Lonely is accurate," Snake said, his cigarette's cherry holding his gaze. He took another drink of whiskey, grimacing at this one. 

"Meryl and I escaped Shadow Moses and managed to make it back to my cabin. She was still nursing injuries from Wolf." 

Otacon inhaled sharply at the name.

"Sorry... Otacon, I..." 

Otacon's eyes began to sting. He took another drink of beer. 

"It's okay. All I can do is carry on... her will." He smiled weakly. "Please, continue." 

Snake thought for a moment, considering his words. "Meryl was injured. When we got to my cabin I changed her bandages and put her to bed." He took another drag from his cigarette. "I don't know if it was adrenaline, or post-traumatic stress, or what... I couldn't sleep. For days." 

"Jesus, Snake..." 

"Meryl slept for three days straight. I kept checking her pulse... It's all I could do. She just needed to rest." He took a drink. "But I wasn't able to rest. I tried drinking, I tried exhausting myself with exercise, with the dogs... Nothing worked. I was losing my mind." 

Otacon murmured sympathetically. 

"Finally, Meryl woke up. I was so happy to see her. But, sleep overwhelmed me. It was my turn to sleep for days on end. I didn't have a television, or a phone... Hell, I didn't even have a radio. Other than a couple of dogeared copies of Breakfast Of Champions and Clear And Present Loathing In Danger, there wasn't shit for her to do. I didn't even have a map to town." 

Snake drunkenly leaned to the side for a moment, derailing his train of thought. The whiskey was catching up with him. He held the bottle halfway between his lips and the floor, considering. He then looked up at Otacon, offering the bottle to him again. Otacon stood up shakily, his legs asleep, crossing the distance between him and Snake, accepting the bottle from him. 

He sat down next to Snake, taking a tiny sip of whiskey, making a horrified face. He took a swig of beer to chase it down. 

"How did Nastasha get ahold of you?" he asked, coughing. 

Snake chortled. "That's rich. She wrote me a letter." 

Otacon took another swig of whiskey. He had a way to go if he wanted to be on Snake's level. 

"She wrote me a letter because it's the only way anyone could reach me, and it arrived the same day as Roy's letter to Meryl." 

"Roy?" Otacon asked, grimacing from the taste of the whiskey. 

"The Colonel. Meryl's uncle... or dad, or whatever." Snake righted himself. "Two people in the whole world had my address, and they both wrote to me on the same day." 

"What did the Colonel write to Meryl?"

"I didn't pry. She got angry, broke one of my chairs. Couple of days later, she... poof," he mimicked the sound of an explosion, waving his hand. 

"She... exploded?" Otacon whispered quietly. 

"No, Otacon. She left." Snake lit another cigarette, much less elegantly than the first one. Smoke wafted toward Otacon, who waved his hand in front of his face. "Smoke follows beauty." Otacon felt himself blush. 

"So, the honeymoon didn't last long... Really makes'ya los'faith in love," Otacon slurred slighty, setting the quarter full bottle of Jack Daniel's on the floor a bit more roughly than intended. Snake reached for it, only losing his balance a little. He took a fledgling gulp, grunting with effort. 

"I really loved Meryl. She's gorgeous, she's intelligent, she's got --" 

"a fuckin' great ass," Otacon interrupted with a hiccup. Snake butted him with his shoulder, and he fell over. 

"Jeez, Otacon," Snake reached over, picking Otacon off of the floor and back to an upright position. Otacon leaned his head against Snake's shoulder. "You're not wrong, but..." 

Otacon nuzzled Snake's arm drunkenly. "I'm sorry Meryl left, Snake... what happened?" 

"Nastasha's letter to me was... vague. Here, I have it," Snake lept up, stumbling into the room. Otacon slipped without Snake there to prop him up. The sound of boxes crashing to the floor and Snake cursing could be heard. Snake reappeared a moment later holding a ripped-open envelope. He handed it to Otacon, who accepted it, squinting at the handwriting on the letter contained within, a squiggly and unruly cursive. 

_Snake,_  
_Rex has been sold. Ø is safe. Get ready to move. Look 15° SW of the North Star. When it rings, will you answer?_  
_-NR_

Otacon mumbled as he read, handing the paper back to Snake. "And this... made sense to you?" 

"Otacon, I was sent into Shadow Moses with less information than that. I gathered from the letter that..." 

"shit's fuckin' fucked up," Otacon interrupted with a sputtering, drunken laugh. Snake shot him a glare, and he immediately stopped. 

Snake's glare relaxed. "I gathered that Ocelot had sold Rex. I gathered that your silly ass was safe. I gathered that I needed to find homes for my dogs, and I gathered..." he trailed off. 

"Sssnake?" Otacon slurred. Snake sat back down next to him. 

"I felt... that you were watching me." He stared ahead, bleary-eyed but unblinking. 

"I felt... safe." 

Otacon remembered all the times Snake had looked directly at him thru the satellite. 

"Nastasha... sent me your coordinates, told me how to find you," Otacon said finally. "Someone bailed Naomi..." 

"...and the bastards added it to my tab," Snake finished. 

"It's bullshit," Otacon exclaimed. 

"Yeah. It doesn't change anything, though." Snake took another chug of whiskey. "I still have my mission."

"Mission?"

"Yeah. Destroy Metal Gear." 

Otacon's jaw clenched, the words hovering midair heavily. 

"Snake...

We'll do everything we can to destroy Metal Gear. Together." 

Snake looked down to Otacon's hand. He grasped it firmly. The sudden contact knocked him for a loop. "T-together..." he said again. 

Snake grinned a drunken lopsided grin, tossing Otacon's hand in the air. It landed on Snake's hand, and Snake lifted his hand, bringing it down on Otacon's. 

"What are you doing...?" 

"A bonding exercise for new squadrons is to play hand-eye coordination games, or come up with a handshake." He concentrated on Otacon's hand, slapping their palms together and then the backs of their hands. Otacon inhaled sharply, his arm jerking. 

"It stings, Snake." 

"Yeah... needs work. Listen, Hal. Tomorrow. We gotta... get our shit together." Snake spoke slowly, hiccupping drunkenly. "But now, we should sleep." He stood up with some difficulty.

 _Hal._ The word hit Otacon's ear as sweet as a sugarcube. 

Snake offered his hand to help Otacon up from the floor. 

"Sure thing, Dave." He accepted Snake's hand and was hoisted to a standing position. 

"Hal and Dave, huh... Perhapsh' we sshould take a trip to Jupiter." 

The two men leaned against each other for support, gazing out the window at the waning moon. Together they walked slowly to the bedroom.

-

Otacon woke first, his vision a painful blur. He attempted to raise his throbbing head, giving that up immediately. His head fell back down onto a soft yet firm surface, which grumbled in his sleep. 

_Snake..._

Otacon's eyes slid open again. Snake was lying on his back on the floor of the bedroom. His breathing was deep and even. Other than dark grey boxer briefs and one sock on his left foot, he was nude. 

Otacon's visual tour of the state of things continued down: other than what was presumably Snake's right sock, draped uselessly across his pelvis, he was completely nude. He lay in the crook of Snake's arm, his head resting on Snake's shoulder. His arm stretched across Snake's chest.

_Well, then._

Snake awoke eventually with a stretch, his arms returning to their position wrapped around Otacon. They got up, they made coffee. No one mentioned what happened the night before... neither man could quite remember precisely what had happened the night before, if they're being honest.

In the weeks following their first night in Philanthropy HQ, Snake and Otacon worked hard to fortify their compound. They scoured the abandoned buildings around them for supplies, furniture, useful bits. Otacon built a computer and a few other electronics from scraps, and Snake had assembled a small armory with help from financial donations laundered thru Nastasha's various connections. 

"Philanthropy is really coming together," Otacon said, tightening a screw on a small electronic, wiping the sweat from his forehead. 

"All we need now is to change the broken window glass, and we'll be open for business." Snake gazed out the window toward the horizon. Otacon stood next to him, his hand resting on Snake's shoulder. Snake stared first at Otacon's hand, then looked into Otacon's eyes. 

"Partners." The word fell easily from Snake's mouth. 

"Right," Otacon replied, nodding. "Partners." 

Otacon moved his hand to meet Snake's. They got approximately halfway thru the handshake before stumbling. Otacon looked frustrated, but Snake turned to him, his hands on Otacon's shoulders. 

"We're getting a lot better, Otacon. We're not there yet, but we will be." 

Otacon nodded again. "We have nothing but time, right?" 

"Right."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¹ Changes in altitude always give Otacon nosebleeds, wink wink


	3. wishing he was dead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snake introduces Otacon to a radical new training method. Things get steamy. Rated M for Mature and S for Sexual. Later, our boys break Liquid's body out of a French hospital.

Months had passed since Snake and Otacon settled in to Philanthropy HQ. Otacon sat at his computer. Currently, he was hacking into a private company’s files to erase their blueprints for a new Metal Gear. There were dozens of new models springing up every week. Sometimes Snake had to go on location to sabotage one, but this wasn’t one of those times. 

_I wonder where Snake is._

As if summoned, Snake appeared behind Otacon, proffering a cup of coffee. Otacon accepted it with a nod, blowing steam away to take a sip. 

Snake leaned over, looking over Otacon’s shoulder at the computer screen. “How’s it looking?”

“So far, not bad. I almost feel bad for these guys, their security didn’t stand a chance against me.” Otacon spoke from behind the cup. 

“Attaboy,” Snake said, patting Otacon on the back. He walked away with heavy, authoritative clicks. 

Wait, clicks?

Otacon looked down to Snake’s shoes. 

_High heels?!_

“Snake? What are you wearing?”

“High heels, Otacon.¹ They help with balance training. Just because I have some downtime doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be vigilant.” 

He walked over to the hallway, gripping the pull-up bar. He looked over his shoulder at Otacon. 

“Besides… They make my ass look amazing.” 

Otacon blushed so hard, the temperature around his face rose several degrees. 

“Y-yeah…” Otacon glanced away, adjusting his glasses nervously. 

Snake smiled, doing a set of pull-ups. He dropped to the floor, landing on his heels. 

“Y'know, you should really train with me more often. You never know when you’re gonna need these skills.” 

Otacon shook his head. “I’ll pass. My place is here.” He motioned to his computer. 

A beep chimed, and a small window popped up. Otacon focused on it. 

“Mei Ling messaged us,” Otacon said, double-clicking the box. Snake sauntered over, leaning over to look. Otacon stared down at Snake’s feet in those heels. _How does he do it?_

“Soliton radar stills, huh… This isn’t from Shadow Moses, though. Otacon, can you click to the next one?”

Otacon’s eyes trailed up Snake’s legs, lingering on his upper thighs. 

“Otacon?”

Otacon bit his lip unconsciously. Snake leaned forward, catching his gaze. He looked… annoyed. 

“Where’d you go, Otacon?”

Otacon cleared his throat, looking back to the computer. He quickly clicked thru the four Soliton radar stills. At the end was a note from Mei Ling. 

_I found where they’re keeping Liquid’s body! What could they want with it?_   
_-ML_

“Liquid…” Snake growled. He pushed himself upright from Otacon’s desk, stomping off into the bedroom. Otacon heard a duffel bag flop onto the bed, heard Snake unzip it, heard the sound of gun and bullets being packed. 

“Snake?” Otacon stood up from his chair, padding softly into the bedroom. 

“We’re gonna find where they’re storing Liquid’s body. And we’re gonna go get it.” He sat down on the bed. 

“Okay… Why?” 

“Otacon, think about it. Whoever has his body… shouldn’t.” He pulled the empty magazine out of his SOCOM, reaching over to his bedside table to retrieve bullets from the drawer. 

“And we should?” 

Snake loaded the gun, checking the sights, wiggling… gun parts… to make sure they were only as wiggly as they should be, and no wigglier. 

“Otacon… I’ve had nightmares every night since Shadow Moses. Hell, I’ve had nightmares every night for years now, but in these last months since Shadow Moses, they’ve been… worse. More intense.” 

Otacon sat on the bed next to Snake. He knew about Snake’s nightmares. He had heard Snake yelp in his sleep, felt him wake with a jerk, catapulted upright… 

“Okay, Snake. I’ll get more info on his whereabouts.” 

“Thanks, Otacon.” Snake patted his hand. “Want me to pack a bag for you?” 

Otacon was taken aback by the question. He had never been on a mission with Snake before. “S… Sure, Snake.” 

Snake nodded. He lifted his hand, and he and Otacon performed their handshake flawlessly. Otacon grinned, his eyebrow arched seductively. Snake, still holding Otacon’s hand, pulled him close, gaze smouldering. Snake leaned forward, hand reaching up to caress Otacon’s cheek. 

“Otacon…” 

Otacon reached up to take Snake’s hand. “Snake… I’m sorry. About your nightmares, I mean.” 

“Comes with the territory,” Snake murmured. “I’ve stopped wishing for nice dreams.” He leaned forward, kissing Otacon on the cheek. Otacon turned his head into the kiss, catching Snake’s lips with his own. 

Snake leaned back on the bed, dragging Otacon on top of him. Their bodies aligned in a way that had become familiar to them over the months, Snake’s arms wrapped around Otacon protectively, Otacon’s legs on either side of Snake’s hips, groins pressed together. Otacon thrust against Snake, and Snake’s breath caught ragged in his throat. 

Snake reached down to pull his high heels off, and Otacon stopped him. 

“Would you mind… keeping them on?” 

A wicked grin spread across Snake’s face, lust burning in his eyes. He reached down to unbutton his jeans, and Otacon pulled them down over his legs, over the heels. He wrapped his hand around Snake’s erection, rubbing sensually slowly. Snake’s eyes slid closed with a groan. 

Otacon knelt before Snake, leaning over, licking the head of Snake’s arousal. Snake dug his heels into the bed, thrusting into Otacon’s mouth. Otacon, who wasn’t prepared, sat up quickly, coughing. 

“Sorry,” Snake said sheepishly. Otacon sputtered, waving his hand. He climbed up the bed, face hovering over Snake’s. Snake reached down to Otacon’s fly, rubbing his own erection thru the fabric of his pants. Otacon whimpered, and Snake took the opportunity to grapple him, rolling him over on the bed. Otacon yelped in surprise. 

Snake made quick work of Otacon’s clothing, and the scientist lay nude under the soldier. The soldier’s eyes scanned the scientist’s body, the scientist’s skin burning under the heat of the soldier’s gaze. 

Otacon reached over to his bedside table, retrieving a small bottle of lube. He handed it to Snake, who squirted a small amount into his palm. He first applied some to Otacon, and then to himself. He took Otacon by the wrist, guiding his hand to Snake’s erection. Otacon began stroking Snake as Snake stroked Otacon, their eyes locked. 

“Whoever climaxes first… loses,” Snake hissed thru clenched teeth. Otacon knew he would have to resort to foul play, as Snake’s sexual stamina, like the rest of him, was the stuff of legends. 

Otacon rolled over on the bed, now laying on his stomach under Snake. He wiggled, looking over his shoulder back at Snake. 

Without saying a word, Snake squirted more lube onto his index and middle finger, slowly rubbing them against Otacon, pushing them inside slowly. Otacon gasped, gripping the bedsheets. Snake thrust in and out slowly, feeling Otacon relax under him. He positioned himself behind Otacon, slowing easing inside. Otacon bit his pillow with a grunt. 

Snake propped Otacon up on his knees, finding a slow rhythm. He laced the fingers of his left hand thru Otacon’s, and the fingers of his right hand in Otacon’s hair, pulling his head back slowly. He leaned forward, whispering against Otacon’s ear. “You feel so fucking good, Otacon.” He licked Otacon’s earlobe. Otacon rocked back against Snake, whose eyelids fluttered closed. He moaned, the sound reverberating against Otacon’s back. 

“Don’t forget, whoever comes first loses,” Otacon managed to breathe, thrusting back against Snake’s cock. Snake moaned again, reaching under Otacon, gripping and stroking him firmly. 

“Fuck, Snake… oh my God…” Otacon cried in ecstasy, his back arching. Snake thrust harder, his head tilted back. They came within seconds of each other, collapsing in a panting sweating pile. 

Snake wrapped his arms around Otacon, rolling over onto their sides. 

“Looks like… we’re both losers,” Otacon panted, running his fingers over Snake’s arm. Snake kissed him on the neck, already dozing off, Otacon right behind him. 

\- 

Otacon woke to the sunset’s pink and purple glow staining the walls of their bedroom. He patted the bed next to him to find it empty. 

“Snake?” Otacon called, reaching for his glasses. He pulled his boxers on. 

“In here,” Snake called from the other room. Otacon padded into the room, finding Snake on his computer. His hair was disheveled, forming a halo around his head. He was also still nude. 

Otacon yawned, scratching his tummy. He walked over to Snake, looking at the computer screen. 

“I’ve been talking to Mei Ling. She says hi.” Snake scrolled up to a picture of Mei Ling, winking, flashing a peace sign. “Liquid is being held in a hospital in Lyon.” 

“France?” Otacon gently took the mouse from Snake, scrolling back down to read his correspondence with Mei Ling. 

“She’s already made arrangements for us to be on a plane first thing in the morning.” 

“I don’t speak French,” Otacon said sheepishly. 

“I do. Leave it to me,” Snake said comfortingly, running the back of his hand along Otacon’s leg. 

“We should get some sleep, Snake.” 

“You’re right. Tomorrow’s gonna come too soon.” Snake reached over, retrieving a cigarette from his pack. “Luckily we’re all packed.” 

“We are? I thought you got distracted by…” 

“This was while you were out, sleeping beauty.” Snake spun in the desk chair, facing Otacon. He drew Otacon close, running his fingers along Otacon’s back. 

“Snake…” Otacon trailed off, leaning into Snake’s caress. 

The next morning, they flew to Lyon. They checked into the hotel Mei Ling booked for them. Snake disguised himself as a doctor with one of Otacon’s white jackets along with his tuxedo pants, repurposed. He wore a Bluetooth headset and carried a clipboard. 

“Okay, Snake. I’ll be in the lobby. From my computer, I’ll be able to monitor the security cameras, as well as open any security locks standing in the way between you and Liquid.” 

“I’ll be in touch.” Snake walked away, hitting the Down button on the elevator. 

According to Mei Ling’s satellite images, Liquid was being held in the third basement under the hospital, in their secret cryogenic freezing lab. Snake was to infiltrate, locate Liquid’s body, and smuggle it out. 

The elevator arrived. Snake boarded, hitting the B3 button. It flashed red, beeping a negative tone. Snake hit the button again, to the same result. On the third press, the button illuminated, the doors closing. 

“Sorry, I had trouble connecting to the wifi.” Otacon’s voice whispered sheepishly against Snake’s ear thru the Bluetooth. 

The elevator opened on B3. Snake exited the elevator with a confident stride, wingtips tapping on the worn linoleum. He figured, if he looked like he belonged there, no one would question him. 

“Alright, Snake. Go down the hallway to your right, take the second left. You’ll walk north for a while, until you get to door… -72?” 

“Negative seventy-two? That’s strange.” Snake whispered just loud enough for the Bluetooth to catch it. He followed the path as Otacon described it, and eventually he found this door -72. 

“Otacon… It’s locked.” Snake jiggled the doorknob and the card reader beeped in complaint, a red light glowing.

Otacon entered a few commands on his computer, and the card reader beeped again, the light turning green. Snake turned the knob again and it allowed him entry. 

The room Snake entered was large and dark, everything tinted a dark red. 

“It’s like a… photo developing lab,” Snake murmured. As the door closed, Snake lost Otacon’s signal.

“Snake? Snake? Are you there?” Otacon typed a few more commands, hitting the button on his own Bluetooth. He checked his cell phone. 

_Call dropped._

Snake’s eyes adjusted to the low lighting, and he finally got a good look at the room. The wall was lined with floor-to-ceiling tubes. Fog-like mist hissed from smaller tubes coming out of the larger ones. Snake saw windows, and human faces behind the windows. 

“Liquid,” Snake growled, eyes focusing on the tube Liquid was in. He looked peaceful, eyes closed, hair splayed around his head. Snake retrieved an empty cart from the opposite wall, covering it in a white sheet. He opened Liquid’s tube, catching his body as it fell forward. He fireman carried Liquid to the table, curling him up fetal, placing him on the bottom shelf of the table. 

Otacon’s computer screen flashed red, and five dots closed in on Snake’s location, three from the left and two from the right. The dots represented armed security guards. 

Otacon looked down to his left. At his feet was the bag containing Snake’s SOCOM. 

His eyes widened in fear. 

Snake exited room -72 pushing the cart, whistling. He touched the button on his Bluetooth. “Otacon, I got the package.” 

Footsteps approached Snake from all angles. He stopped whistling, stopped walking. Three guards appeared from the corridor in front of Snake, guns drawn. Snake glanced behind him and saw two more. 

“Hands up!” one the the guards shouted in French. “Slowly!” 

“Oui,” Snake muttered, slowly raising his arms. He mentally weighed his jacket. It was too light. He forgot his gun. 

He wasn’t armed. 

_Shit._

_Shit. Shit. Shit. Go faster **please.**_

Otacon cursed under his breath. The elevator was so goddamn slow. 

He stared at the Soliton radar on his computer, balanced on his forearm. Five red dots surrounded the white dot representing Snake. He snapped his laptop closed, sliding it into the bag around his shoulder. He shifted the bag behind him, holding the gun in front of him, shaking nervously.

The elevator door opened, and Otacon crouched, loping down the hallway toward Snake’s location. 

“Les mains en l'air! Lentement!” A voice echoed down the corridor. Otacon gulped heavily, turning a corner and almost running into one of the guards. 

“Don’t move!” Otacon shrieked, poking the barrel of the SOCOM against the guard’s head. The two guards next to him turned away from Snake, pointing their weapons at Otacon threateningly. The other two guards left their weapons trained on Snake. 

Snake's hands remained in the air, and he moved them slowly behind his head. He moved imperceptibly closer to the guard closest behind him, surprising him with an elbow to the nose. He dropped to the ground as Snake grabbed his gun, pointing it at the second guard. Snake hit him in the nose with the butt of the first guard’s gun, dropping him too. He lept over the table containing Liquid, kicking a third guard in the chest, choking him out between his thigh and calf. He bashed the fourth guard in the head with the butt of the gun, and Otacon smashed the final guard, the one he had taken hostage, in the crown with the butt of the SOCOM with a yell. 

Liquid’s body had slid off of the table in the skirmish. Otacon yelled again, pointing. “Li- Li- Li… Liquid…” he stammered. 

“Whoops,” Snake said, pushing Liquid back onto the table. “Help me hide these guys so we can get the hell out of here.”

Together, Snake and Otacon dragged the unconscious guards to a nearby utility closet. They locked the door from the outside. They left the hospital and made it back to the car Mei Ling rented for them, storing Liquid in the trunk. 

Once they got back to the hotel, Snake placed Liquid’s body on ice in the bathtub. He washed his hands and joined Otacon in the hotel room. 

Otacon was hugging himself, staring out the window at nighttime Lyon. Snake placed his hand on Otacon’s shoulder, startling him out of his reverie. 

“Snake… That sucked.” 

“Yeah, it did. You handled yourself very well though.” Snake turned Otacon to face him, placing his hands on Otacon’s shoulders. “I wouldn’t have made it out of there without your help.” 

Otacon’s eyes shifted down, self-conscious. Snake tilted his head back up, holding his chin between his thumb and pointer finger. 

“I mean it, Otacon.” 

Otacon smiled weakly, still hugging himself. He looked back out the window. “How are we getting Liquid out of here?” 

“We can’t take a plane with him unless we can pull off a Weekend At Bernie’s,” Snake replied, patting his shirt pocket for his cigarettes. “Mei Ling mentioned a boat. We could get a trunk or a deep freeze, pack it with dry ice, and bring it with us.” 

Otacon nodded, glancing at the bathroom nervously. 

“A cruise could be nice,” Snake said, lighting a match with his fingers, bringing it to the cigarette held between his lips. The small flame illuminated his face, shadows dancing across it. 

“Yeah…” Otacon said absently. 

“What’s up?” Snake shook the match out, exhaling smoke. 

“I don’t know, I’m just… nervous,” Otacon rubbed the back of his neck. “Liquid has seemingly come back from the dead so many times… I keep expecting him to walk out of the bathroom.” 

Snake set his cigarette on the ashtray. “Come with me.” He took Otacon by the hand, leading him to the bathroom. Otacon reluctantly followed. 

“See?” Snake motioned to the bathtub. “He’s dead. FOXDIE took care of him.” 

Otacon’s gaze lingered on Liquid’s body. It was so weird to see Snake’s lifeless doppelganger on ice. 

“Snake… Where’s his arm?” 

Snake wandered into the other room to retrieve his cigarette. “Huh?”

“I didn’t notice it before. Liquid is missing his right arm. He still had it at Shadow Moses, right?” 

“Yeah, he did… What the hell?” Snake took a drag off his cigarette, stubbing it out in the ashtray. He approached Otacon again. “Do you feel better?”

“Y-yeah… Thanks, Snake.” Otacon smiled weakly. 

“You’ve had a long day. We should get some sleep.” Otacon nodded, sitting on one of the room’s two beds. Snake and Otacon shared one bed, their bags stacked on the other. Otacon slipped his shoes off, leaning back on the bed, arms crossed behind his head. 

Snake kicked his boots off, joining Otacon in the bed, laying next to him, head resting on his shoulder, arm stretched languidly across Otacon’s stomach. They laid in silence for a while, Snake dozing against Otacon’s chest. Otacon stared at the ceiling, wondering when the last time it was properly dusted. He rubbed Snake’s arm.

“Snake… Do you ever worry about FOXDIE?” 

Snake mumbled in his sleep. “I’ll die when I’m ready, until then I’m gonna live for me.” 

Otacon continued staring at the ceiling. 

_I smashed a guy in the head with a gun today._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¹ Idea from this amazing art I love a lot: http://www.zerochan.net/1580127


	4. Chapter 3b ~Pastoral~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snake and Otacon take a trip across an ocean on a boat. 
> 
> This was supposed to be included in Chapter 3. 
> 
> Whoops.

Mei Ling provided Snake and Otacon with updated fake passports and tickets to board a massive ocean liner destined for New York, as well as funds to transport Liquid’s remains. She also sent extra funds, €1000 more than the two men had initially requested. Attached was a note:

_Otasune,_   
_Please use this excess money for disguises for the boat trip! You will be on board for several days, it’s best to blend in! Remember what Sun Tzu said: “Engage people with what they expect; it is what they are able to discern and confirms their projections.”_   
_\- ML_

“What’s an… Otasune?” Snake read over Otacon’s shoulder, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. 

“It’s Mei Ling’s nickname for us,” Otacon explained. “I don’t think it’s gonna stick, though.” He snapped the laptop closed.

“It’s better than… ugh. Snotacon.” Snake stubbed his cigarette out. “Looks like we need to go shopping.” 

-  


France was soon a dot fading fast into the horizon, the open ocean stretching endlessly before them. The sun was setting, the third day since Snake and Otacon liberated the corpse of Liquid Snake drawing closed, as well as their first day aboard the SS Ganymede. 

Hal leaned his elbows against the top deck railing, piña colada in hand, hair and ridiculously-patterned, half-unbuttoned Acapulco shirt billowing in the wind. Dave stood next to him, strawberry daiquiri in hand, hair and bandana tails and his own, differently ridiculously-patterned Acapulco shirt billowing along for the ride.

He took a final pensive drag from his cigarette, positioning his fingers in a flicking gesture. Hal made a quick, disapproving sound - a strained tsk - and Dave stopped immediately, dropping the butt into a nearby depository. 

“Sorry, old habits,” Dave murmured into Hal’s hair, wrapping his arms around the smaller man. 

“You did great, Sn- Dave,” Hal caught himself. 

This was a codename-free cruise. 

“It’s a beautiful night,” Dave murmured again, his eyes scanning the horizon. 

“Yeah, it is.. I saw some dolphins earlier.” 

“ _What?!_ ” Dave exploded, spilling his and Hal’s drinks. “Shit! I wanted to see dolphins.” 

Hal dabbed at the spilt piña colada on his shirt with a napkin, but Dave gently took over, lifting the napkin from his hand. “That sucks! Where were you?” 

The tip of Dave’s tongue stuck out of his mouth in concentration as he dabbed the remaining colada from the palm tree print on Hal’s shirt. Hal saw this and blushed, grinning. 

“Oh, uh… I had to check on the cargo.” Dave mumbled this as he turned the napkin onto himself. “Shit, this is gonna stain…” 

Dave had spilt his strawberry daiquiri onto his brightly patterned shirt, which looked like this¹: a bright blue short sleeve button down shirt with bright pink flamingoes patterned across it. The dark pink drink had spilled mostly onto a non-flamingo part of the shirt. 

Hal watched Dave scrubbing at his shirt, frustrated, muttering about… club soda? Hal didn’t catch it, but it didn’t matter. 

“You’re adorable.” Hal’s thought bypassed his brain entirely, tumbling unfiltered out of his mouth. Dave stopped, mid-scrub, scowling deeply. 

“If I have to wear this stupid shirt, I at least want it to look okay. Now it’s stained and I’m sticky.” 

Hal finished the remaining sip of his piña colada, dropping the empty glass gently into his cargo shorts pocket.  “We’re both sticky, Dave.” He loosely wrapped his arms around Dave’s waist. “At least we’re sticky together.” 

They stood like this for a while, Hal’s arms around Dave’s waist, Dave’s arms around Hal’s chest, watching the sun dip lower and lower under the ocean. The sky turned from orange to pink to amber, tinting navy, darkening still, illuminated with countless stars. Dave and Hal tried to find constellations, but neither knew any for this region. 

Their top-level perch was, aside from the occasional passers-by, secluded. The pair took the opportunity to steal kisses, fingers entwined. They were drawn deeper into each other’s embrace, the ambient sounds of the ocean and the constant low mechanical growl of the ship melting away, the only sound each other’s heartbeat, breathing, a gasp escaping Hal’s lips as Dave’s lips tickled his throat… 

and a disembodied voice coming from behind them.

“You know, I just think you boys’re so brave.” 

Exclamation marks burst from Dave and Hal’s heads as they turned to face the voice. It came from a small, silver-grey haired elderly woman. Her age was, at the very least, ancient. A loose-knit afghan sweater draped over her bent shoulders.

“I’ve been in this world a long time, and I’ve seen a lot of things change. It does my heart good to see you boys together, being so…” her words hung in the hair for a moment, her hand twirling midair to assist her mental search. 

“…happy out loud.”

The words, their phrasing, caught Dave and Hal off-guard.

“Oh… Thank you,” Hal stammered over his words, and he reached up to adjust his glasses, looking away nervously. He bowed at the waist ever so slightly. 

The wind picked up suddenly, blowing the woman’s sweater from her shoulders. It fell to the deck at her feet. Dave reached down to pick it up, returning it gently to the woman’s shoulders. He rubbed her arm, pulling her close in an embrace. “Thank you.“ 

The woman tittered, saying “you good, good boys,” waving as she walked past. Dave watched her walk away, and Hal watched Dave. 

“You know, you’re not the man I met at Shadow Moses. I realize this more and more every day.” 

Dave turned back to Hal, a serene smile across his face. “The man you met at Shadow Moses had nothing to live for, other than two dozen sledding dogs. I found meaning that day, and I’ll continue to find meaning every day. As long as I’m here, I have purpose.” He wrapped Hal in an embrace, kissing his temple.

“Let’s go to bed, Dave.” 

“I’d like to check on the cargo again first, otherwise I’m gonna worry about it all night.” Dave spoke into Hal’s hair, his scruffy jawline itchy against Hal’s face. 

“Cargo? Oh…” Hal’s eyes closed as images of Liquid came to him. “I’ll go with you.” 

“No time like the present.” He gave Hal a final squeeze, pulling away. With a nod, he led Hal to the stairwell, down toward the cargo hold.

Hal watched Dave switch, almost imperceptibly, between his normal stride and stealth mode as they made their way down to the holds. Hal tried to replicate Dave’s stealthy walk as he plodded along behind him. Dave turned back to look at him, arching an eyebrow at the ridiculous display. Hal smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck with his palm. 

Down in the cargo hold, Dave led Hal to where Liquid’s deep freeze tomb was set up. The temperature gauge read -23° Celsius. Dave tapped it, lowering his ear to the freezer. 

“Seems to be fine. Hopefully we can make it back to the States without this thing breaking down on us.” 

“Too true, Snake – ah, I mean, Dave. Sorry.” He blushed and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “It’s a good thing Mei Ling sprung for the deluxe model.” 

“Yeah. Let’s check it again tomorrow. The last thing we need is a technical difficulty.” 

The duo went back to their top-level perch for a nightcap before retiring to their cabin. The sea was still, relatively speaking; the ship rocked gently, somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. The only illumination in the tiny room was moonlight, which streamed thru the portside window and onto the nude forms of Dave and Hal. Their festively patterned shirts rested on the floor atop their matchy-matchy cargo shorts, their forms writhing together, moving rhythmically to the motion of the tides. 

Dave kneeled between Hal’s parted legs, bending over him slightly. His right hand worked its way down and up Hal’s arousal, his left working his own. Hal moaned, arching his back, thisclose to climax. Dave moved his hands, placing them on Hal’s thighs. 

It was too soon for the night to end.

Dave was feeling girl-drink drunk² after strawberry daiquiris innumerable, and Hal wasn’t too far behind; the piña coladas he ingested left him feeling almost uncharacteristically daring. 

He leaned forward to a sitting position, sloppily kissing Dave, his lips trailing down Dave’s throat, his chest, licking, biting, tasting, sea salt and sweat. He captured a nipple between his teeth, swirling his tongue around the captured flesh. Dave’s breath hissed from between his teeth, his fingers tangled in Hal’s hair. 

Hal’s hands gripped Dave’s ass, his fingertips gripping the perfectly sculpted musculature. His legs curled under him, criss-cross applesauce, Dave straddling his hips. Hal’s erection was nestled between Dave’s perfectly sculpted cheeks, and he thrust between them in motion with the ocean. 

Dave eased down onto Hal, slowly, his breath escaping his lungs. Hal moaned, flopping back onto the bed. Dave shifted forward as Hal thrust into him, his eyes rolling back in his head. 

“Dave, oh my god –”

Dave stroked his cock in rhythm to Hal’s thrusting, a moan curling up his throat sensually. His other hand reached up to Hal’s mouth, sticking his thumb in Hal’s mouth. Hal licked it hungrily, pulling it deeper into his mouth. 

Hal’s thighs slapped against Dave’s ass with increasing speed, each man edging closer to climax. Hal came first with a cry, his hips bucking in time with the waves of pleasure submerging him. Dave came next, with a booming shout, cupping Hal’s face in his hand. Sweat beaded on his brow, under his bandana. 

Dave collapsed onto the bed next to Hal, asleep as soon as head hit pillow. Hal arranged Dave’s arms around him, following him to unconsciousness. 

The rest of their trip passed in this fashion. A business week’s worth of piña coladas, shuffleboard, and mind-blowing boat sex was just what the doctor ordered for the legendary mercenary and his scientist partner. They returned to NYC fully refreshed. 

Once they were off the ship, it was safe to use their codenames again. Nicknames, really, at this point - Dave’s birth name was considered highly classified information, but at this point he only went by Solid Snake out of habit. FOXHOUND, the unit that named him, was no more. And Otacon, well… Hal saw an opportunity to have a cool nickname, and he pounced. 

Things returned to status quo at Philanthropy HQ. Liquid’s deep freezer tomb currently lived along the wall between Philanthropy’s kitchen and Otacon’s computer area. 

They did their best to ignore it.

Otacon also returned home to a letter from Julie, his former stepmother. He had written her in the months since forming Philanthropy HQ, and this was the first time she had responded. 

_Hal,_

_I was excited to receive your letter. New York City is a terrifying and wonderful place. I hope it treats you well._   
_Do you have a woman in your life? I hope you have someone special who makes you feel fulfilled._   
_Emma is doing well. She was recently accepted in to some sort of prestigious computer something. It’s all very hush hush. I’m sure you know how that is, Mr. Computer Genius._   
_I know you and she aren’t related, but she reminds me so much of you._   
_I miss you, Hal. I hope this letter finds you well._   
_Yours,_   
_Julie._

Otacon grimaced. He slid the letter, face-down, away from him. He leaned against the kitchen island, face resting on his palm, staring into the middle distance, stirring his cold black coffee mindlessly. The spoon clinked against the mug rhythmically. 

He stood in this single person tableau for time immeasurable and immemorial - had it been five minutes, five hours? 

_Why did I write to her?_

Hal sighed. 

Snake came in, holstering his SOCOM. He was still wearing an Acapulco shirt from their vacation. He saw Otacon leaning against the island and walked up behind him, wrapping his arms around Otacon’s waist. Otacon jumped, spinning around to face Snake. 

“S-sorry, you startled me,” Otacon stammered, placing his hands on Snake’s forearms. 

“Were you daydreaming?” 

“Hmm… Not quite. Just got lost, I guess. Where were you?”

Snake took his holster off, setting it heavily on the counter. “Target practice. Be sure to thank Nastasha again for this place, I can fire a gun outside with no problem.” 

Otacon smiled weakly, his gaze distant. 

Snake snapped his fingers in front of Otacon’s eyes. “Where do you keep going, Otacon?” 

“Oh, nothing. I guess I’m still jetlagged…” He pushed his glasses up automatically. “Err, boat-lagged? That’s even worse, huh.” 

Snake rested his hands on Otacon’s shoulders, leaning in to examine Otacon’s features. He didn’t appear overly flush or pale; sure, he was blushing and sweating somewhat, but he usually reacted like that when Snake leaned in that close, his eyes burning with concern… 

Otacon cleared his throat. “I’m fine, Snake. Let’s get something to eat.” He forced a thin, terse smile. 

“Well, alright,” Snake grumbled, grabbing the keys to the LeBaron. “You know, you really should train with me. It would be good for your constitution.” 

Otacon nodded. “Sure, Snake. That sounds great.”

“Now I know you’re not listening to me,” Snake complained, closing the door behind him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¹ [ This is the inspiration for Snake's shirt.](https://simonsaidfred.tumblr.com/post/160935070517/hi-there-imagine-snake-wearing-this-silly)   
> ² [ Kids In The Hall - Girl Drink Drunk ](https://youtu.be/jzfihVLm_Uc) 


End file.
